Buku
Travels
When I was small the only sermon I enjoyed, the only one indeed I really listened to, was the old familiar about Life as a Journey-the Mr. Christian sermon, the stony upland sermon, the best foot forward, cross-roads, far horizon sermon. Its imagery appealed to me from the start, for I realized myself already to be of the wandering kind. Since then the parable has been proved for me. For one thing I have come to see my own life, however others see it, as a prolonged fascinating quest. For another, believing as I and now do implicitly after-lives, I foresee no final destination. And for a third, hardly in less telling, I have for twenty years and more made a happy living out of travelling-travelling in fact, travelling in fantasy, in present as in past.
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